Games
by Modern Physics
Summary: ..."I like you." She manipulated a small ball of energy within her tiny fist, her gaze focused on his profile. "You're different than the rest." ..Sylar/Elle.. A few short fics with a general theme running throughout.
1. Feeling

"I hope you like games."

Her fingertips traced the gritty line of cement between the tiling in a cell. Level 5 was her home... her playground. Blue strands flitted in her open palms, spinning around like the thread released from an erratic spider. A small smile played at her lips.

"Only if its Russian roulette."

He stood, restrained, next to a solid steel bar which ran parallel to the four walls enclosing him... and her. He hated her presence, her sparks, and her constant smile. He would admit though, that her persistence intrigued him.

"Now, now, now," she said as she sauntered over to him, glancing at the handcuffs chaining him inside his cell, "I only asked you a question."

He shifted. "I answered."

She sighed and leaned against the closest wall opposite of him, kicking a leg up behind herself so that one stiletto was flush against the wall. He forced himself to look away; he didn't feel like playing her game.

"I like you." She manipulated a small ball of energy within her tiny fist, her gaze focused on his profile. "You're different than the rest."

He let out a low laugh, letting his focus fall to the floor. "Excellent observation. I can see why you're an agent."

A small ball of electricity flew at him from her palm and snaked down the metal pole. He writhed in pain, but all the while managed to keep a sly grin on his face.

"I'm damn good at my job," she said, pushing herself up off the wall and coming closer to him. "You're here, aren't you?"

He gritted his teeth at the aftershock; it was a weird sensation.

"Actually, that was my fault. You get no credit for that. Sorry, Elle."

She held her crackling open palm dangerously close to his face. The soft, flickering hue of electricity illuminated every corner in the small cell. He felt something else replacing the tingling sensation that moments before flooded his body.

"You know what? I wanted to bring you down in the worst possible way. Everything I heard about you sounded like a scene from a horror movie. But seeing you in this light? You're not that scary. You're more like a sheep in wolf's skin... or however that sounds when its reversed."

He rattled his restraints angrily against the steel pole in response. "I would cut your head open right now if I could, you know that don't you?"

She moved to place a sparking fingertip to his temple but was cut off by his free hand seizing hers.

"I'm not afraid of you and you know it," she hissed, her voice laced with fear.

She tried to free herself from his hold but to no avail. The two were locked in a dead stare. She suddenly found it hard to swallow.

"Well," he said, releasing her fizzling hand, "you really ought to. Your ability is worth stealing."

She massaged her wrist as she walked towards the cell door, turning towards him before she left.

"Tsk tsk tsk," she hummed in a low voice, "didn't you ever learn that stealing is a no-no? You have a lot to learn."

With one swift flick of her hand all the lights on Level 5 grew dark.


	2. A New High

_The first chapter of this was originally intended as a one-shot but a good review convinced me otherwise. :) I'm glad I can contribute to the pairing. So.. I guess I'll just continue writing until I run out of ideas. Enjoy!_

_--_

_--  
_

He sat on the narrow bed, cloaked in white. Contemplating the irony of it all he let his eyes wander around the familiar rigidity of the walls enclosing him. He felt like a child being scolded, only far too late to have any positive effects. He did not operate on such principals, instead only responding to his instant impulses. This was proving difficult because here, inside these four mocking walls, he had many strange impulses and urges and unanswered questions.

Whenever she sauntered into the room a bubbling mixture of scientific calculations, hatred, and curiosity brewed inside of him. Her words cut through him like glass. Her eyes pierced him like daggers. Her electricity gave him a temporary high. She was the heroin and he was the addict; the metaphor sickened him as he turned away from the door, as he was unconsciously anticipating her arrival.

--

--

He was the monster. He was what kept people up at night. He was every child's worst nightmare. He was also her most interesting toy yet, and that was enough to dispel her fears about his past. She walked down the Level 5 hallway causing a chain reaction among the prisoners behind the glass walls. One by one they stood up and pressed their faces to the glass. She smiled mischievously at the attention. She knew it was wrong and attributed her less-than-perfect mental state to her father. It was oh so her to pin the blame on someone else.

"Miss me, boys?"

The convicted killers and felons howled and made obscene gestures. She flicked her hair and continued down the hall like a model working the catwalk, eyeing her target destination. In a floor full of possible victims, she had eyes for only one.

Petrelli was easy like she knew he would be. He was her shiny new toy with wide eyes and a clean conscience for awhile, but the same old routine became boring after awhile. She came off as desperate because only she knew the game she played. But perhaps she had found someone else that played the same game.

--

--

He heard her familiar entrance. The cat calls were the warning siren before a storm. He sighed and laid down on the small, hard bed awaiting her imminent arrival with a tiny bit of anticipation. Blue sparks scattered across the surface of the shiny metal doorknob and he knew she was there.

Click. The door opened.

Click, click, click. Her polished black heels rose and clashed perfectly with the linoleum floor. He rested his arms across his chest and looked up at the ceiling.

"You know as well as I do this isn't your job."

She scoffed. "Actually, I'm pretty sure it is."

Click, click, click. The sound moved gears in his mind and he couldn't help it. So mathematical, so precise so... distracting. And irrational. He closed his eyes.

"I mean," he said through gritted teeth, "the unnecessary visits, or whatever you call them."

Her sly grin fell. "Oh," she said, holding a small tray filled with pills, food, and water.

Click, click, click. She walked over to the bed.

"Well I guess you've forgotten that you're special, have you?"

He opened an eye and was shocked by her face only inches away from his. He shut it again.

She sat down, causing his weight on the bed to shift. "If I don't give you these," she said, shaking the cup of pills, "you'd regain your powers. Now I don't need to explain what would happen after that do I?"

He growled under his breath at her snark. He despised her being in this room at this exact moment. Forcefully, she shoved the cup of pills into his hands and ordered him to swallow them. While sitting up he accidentally brushed her arm and received a pleasant shock to which she was unaware. This accidental encounter, however, prompted him to play a little game of his own. Without any warning he threw the pills across the room and watched them land in various places on the floor. She gasped and gave him a mock stern look in return.

"I knew you wanted to play it the hard way."

A smile crept on her face and he suddenly realized that he had made a mistake. He only planned on giving himself some sort of brief escape from this hell; he had no intention of making it fun for her as well. Angrily he concluded that she was aware of her power's effect on him.

"I don't want to 'play' any way, I just want my powers back."

Before the words were barely out of his mouth he knew she'd never buy it.

She now stood up. Click, click, click. The heels scratched the pristine floor, now littered with an assortment of pills.

"Like I tell them all," she said with a mischievous grin, "you learn to like it."

Before he had any time to anticipate the burst , she pressed an open palm onto his chest. He initially recoiled in shock, but then pressed himself into the current issuing from her hand. He compared this sensation to the one he felt when taking someone's ability. Every millivolt that coursed through his veins felt like a new kill, a new power, being jammed into his DNA. As suddenly as it had begun, it stopped. The charge had ceased and she removed her hand from him swiftly. Taking notice of the expression on his face with a pleased smirk, she turned around to face the door.

He remained motionless on the bed, clutching the spot where the torrent of energy had just fled. He wanted, no, needed, more.

"Well, I guess I'll go back to my job, that is if it's even considered a job."

He swung his feet around off of the bed as if he was about to get up. She laughed as she picked up the tray and made her way to the door.

"I...," he stammered as she narrowed her eyes at him, stopping him in his tracks.

"I'm going to do us both a favor and cut you off before you end up saying something you'll regret later, okay? Okay."

Click, click, click and she was gone but for some strange reason the gears in his head were still whirring. He hated her for playing his game. He hated her for knowing his tricks. He hated her for thinking exactly like him. Lying back down on the bed he took comfort in knowing that sooner or later she would be back with more pills for him to take, this time for real. Next time he would comply; next time he wouldn't give in.

--

--

Her blue bolts snaked across the walls of her make-shift bedroom. Curling up in her own soft bed, she took great pride in the knowing that he was awaiting her return in a cold, dark cell. "Poor thing." she said aloud to herself, "he probably hasn't even heard of placebos."

Her game, her rules.


	3. Electric Girl

_Flashback chapter. Spoilers for the 3x08 promos.. sort of. :/_

* * *

"I think I'm... different."

He sat on the cold linoleum floor of his kitchen, drawing his knees towards his chest in order to distance himself from his latest discovery. Before him lay shards of broken glass from a snow globe he had kept on the window sill which he had smashed in an effort to demonstrate his abilities.

She knelt down on the floor, ignoring the urge to shock him senseless until he told her the truth about where he had gained his abilities. He looked so defenseless and dejected, sitting there with his head down. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

"I know."

These were two simple words but yet meant a world of meaning. The fact that he was not alone in the universe with these strange abilities and impulses made it that much more bearable, at least in theory.

She lowered herself on her hands so that she was also sitting next to him on the cold floor, her palms eliciting involuntary shocks against the unfamiliar surface.

"You don't have to show me anymore, it's okay... I remember what it was like when I first realized I could control my powers... not that pleasant."

He laughed quietly under his breath, shifting his gaze towards the hundreds of shining shards that littered the floor in his small apartment. Did she really understand? He felt she did.

"It's just that... I don't know, I feel so alone. Don't you feel that way? Like there are millions of people in this world that have no idea that there are people like us living among them. Doesn't it make you feel, I don't know... alienated?"

She raised her knees towards her chest so that her position mirrored his almost exactly. _Mirror your opponent_, a voice rang out in her head; _make him see you as equal_. She silently cursed the Company and its useless training before sighing quietly.

"I was raised in a home where this sort of..." she waved her hand around erratically, small sparks spraying in every direction, "um, talent, was valued and encouraged. I know what you're saying though... I understand."

He nodded without even knowing why he did so. His abilities weren't worth examining... they weren't in their original package. They were transformed and disfigured beyond recognition, their purpose unknown but yet different from the original. He pushed his glasses further up his nose as they had fallen down somewhat when he demonstrated his ability earlier.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, enjoying the similarities that floated in the charged air around them. Ions of change, particles of the unknown. A small smile played at her lips. The sunset was trying to stream through a dusty window above the kitchen sink.

"I really ought to be going," she said, easing herself up off the floor and dusting herself off. "How about I come back tomorrow and..."

Before she could finish her sentence he stood up and grabbed her wrist forcefully, to which she yelped in surprise and maybe even pain. This was not the same man that sat beside her only seconds ago; it was a completely different person.

"Your talent," he said, his voice sounding suddenly menacing, "is beautiful. Did they tell you that at the Company?"

She froze in her spot. How did he know about the company? There was no way...

He laughed at her shock and confusion.

"Oh don't tell me you haven't heard about Suresh, the geneticist?"

She writhed in pain. "I have.. why?"

He smiled and looked down at her, electricity seeping through every pore.

"I killed him.. just like I'm going to kill you and Noah Bennet."

Rage bubbled up inside of her. She had, naively, she admitted, trusted him in the short period she knew him. Although the Company warned her that he would be dangerous she didn't expect him to be a cold blooded killer and the man they called Sylar. She couldn't believe the Company would overlook such a glaring similarity. She could barely control the volts that were firing inside.

"Just try me. I dare you."

Her childish side was emerging as was the terrible electrical storm. Her skin had a bluish tinge as she tightly grasped both of his wrists and prepared to shock him senseless or perhaps even to death... it had happened before.

Glancing up before delivering the final blow she met his eyes. They weren't those of a heartless killer. They weren't those of an innocent, either. The darkness was offset by a small ray of light cascading through a dusty window which made them seem a little less scary and a lot more scared.

"I'm waiting," she said through clenched teeth, her skin searing from the current streaming across her skin.

He glanced down, a look of fear spread across his face. He was hesitating and she had no idea what was going to come next.

"Tell me," he said quietly, "does a man kill the one living thing he has ever truly felt connected to in his life in order to steal from it?"

She realized she was digging her nails into his wrists.

"It depends on what kind of person you are. Are you a killer?"

He glanced down at her hands, the dark, menacing look returning.

"Do they say I am?"

She knew where this was going and didn't want to play his game. She knew better.

"I wouldn't know. Who are you Gabriel Gray? A poor man's son... a lonely watch-maker... a killer? I hardly think so."

He fumed and she could tell this was not what he wanted to hear.

"I've just decided," he said angrily, glancing down at her with an unreadable expression. "I can't kill you. Don't you feel this connection? It's too strong."

She laughed in disapproval, zapping him with a few millivolts just because she could. "You're a psychopath."

He snarled. "You're a sociopath."

She zapped him again. She didn't agree with his reasoning... she didn't know what he was getting at... or did she?

"You're light, I'm dark. You're ying, I'm yang. Don't you get it?"

She felt nothing but hatred towards him. How dare he stand there plotting to take her life all the while thinking that they're just star-crossed lovers like some grotesque version of Romeo and Juliet.

He laughed, a bit more jovially than before.

"You hate me. You'll hate me still. But there's something bigger than both of us here and you know it even if you won't admit it.... you are my electric girl."

Finally she let go of his wrists and jolted him with all electricity she could muster, sending him soaring across the room. She was not 'his' anything. She was no one's anything and that's the way she played the game. Hastily she picked up some shards of the snow globe he shattered before and headed for the door, visibly shaken. Before turning to leave she glanced at the scene behind her, the man lying crumpled against a far wall had propped himself up on one elbow and looked at her with another unreadable expression.

"A profound love between two people involves, don't you know, the power and probability of doing profound hurt."

She snarled and hurled another ball of blue light at him before slamming the wooden door shut and paging Noah Bennet... perhaps she wasn't cut out for this kind of work.

* * *

She had a hard time associating this old memory with the new ones formed about the same, although different, man. Her mind flipped through the pages of her past eagerly hoping to find some similarity.

She had met this man before; before this man turned into what he is now. Oddly enough, she was beginning to understand the connection he had mentioned to her before and she hated herself for it. Maybe it was a self-fulfilling prophecy...

A psychopath and a sociopath... at least they were, literally, both on the same path.


	4. The Sun and the Moon

_Originally, I had wanted to write a short piece that went before this one but after having this sitting around for a few days I figured I'd just put it up anyway. Thanks for the nice reviews, they really mean a lot :D_

* * *

A lot had changed since the two met for the first time. New abilities had been discovered, civilians had been murdered, and justly so, the world had been saved. Events like these really put things into perspective.

She was an inexperienced agent. She was but a child even at twenty-five considering she had done all of her growing up behind Company walls. She was not prepared for the things she had to deal with while on the field and he was no exception.

* * *

Absence does, in a sense, make the heart grow fonder. But when the one you believe you love is working from the inside to destroy you it doesn't necessarily help things along. He sees through her wit and charm. He sees through the games she plays every day to convince herself that she is normal and grown-up when in fact she is neither of these things. He has read all about her and her father and her electrifying ability.

He still believes that with true love comes true pain... however sadistic and wrong that may be. They would never be normal alone, but perhaps normal and right together as a whole like two forgotten pieces of a puzzle that never made it back inside the box.

* * *

"Wake up."

He stirs on the small bed in his cell. Judging from the small window above him he can tell that it's still dark outside.

"What do you want."

It was not a question, more like a statement.

"You've changed a lot."

He flipped himself over on the bed so that he could face her, a pale sliver of moonlight catching all the angled, angry lines on her face. He didn't know how to respond.

"I don't expect you to understand."

She sighed, half expecting an answer like this but half expecting a real explanation to his motives. She was foolish to think that he would explain or even apologize for his past. He was, after all, a monster.

"I was just thinking..." she started before he cut her off, sitting up swiftly.

"Don't think. Accept the fact that I am what I am and there's nothing that can change that, okay? These gears inside of my head can't turn in the opposite direction... I can't be reset or remodeled so just give up. You can't, and will never be able to, fix me."

She looked at him as if he were a sad, heartbroken child. He looked away coldly, watching the moonlight spill across the icy floor.

She stood in silence and watched him for a few moments, forgetting what she was about to say next. For a moment she considered leaving the cold, dark cell.

"Is that all? Did you just come here to lecture me? I thought you had a job to do."

She exploded, although she knew she shouldn't. Why? She had no explanation.

"Yes I do have a job, actually. Many. One of them isn't assigned by the company, but it's a job nonetheless and that's trying to get to the bottom of why we're so alike. There is no one else in the world that thinks like us, mind you I'm not a deranged serial killer, but the tendencies are there. I've killed before and I know the feeling it produces. I know the thrill of causing pain and receiving pain and the sorrows that come with being reprimanded for it. Every time I try to reach out or ask you anything I just get shut down. You're not my father... you're my equal. Start treating me like one."

He glanced at her with a look of understanding for the first time since their initial meeting. A mixture of love and hate and empathy and sympathy rose within him and tempted to pour out of his mouth if he opened it so he just sat still, basking in the silence.

"And I know," she said, walking towards the door, looking out to make sure no one had come down the hall after her outburst, "you get me. I can see that and I'm fascinated, intrigued, and... well, I guess I feel special. Wanted. Maybe even loved."

He grinned slightly. He wasn't sure how he felt about her but he was sure he never felt the same way about another human being in his entire life. That much he knew for certain.

"So..." she said quietly, taking a step towards him slowly, "what is it? What do you want? Something on the side? Do you even have a heart? I don't know. Tell me."

He scoffed at her childishness. Love... love was but a four letter word printed on cards and candy for commercial purposes. He didn't want to cheapen the feeling with such a word, although he knew she would love to hear it. She craved attention and desperately needed to feel desired. He refused to play that game just yet. He knew she would wait.

"Don't you feel this charge around us? Attracting, repelling. It's like the molecules surrounding us are in constant turmoil, defying the space they occupy. Tell me you can feel it..."

She hated his words. His imagery. His intellect. But did he even have a heart? She wondered..

"I do," she hummed, blue sparks dancing around her fingertips. She could feel a sort of tension between them indeed. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine something positive coming out of this meeting but failed to do so. They were on two separate, yet similar, planes of thought.

"You are unlike anything else I've ever encountered. I don't want to lose that just yet."

The two separate planes, in her mind, crashed and formed one.

He moved his pawn forward. He played his turn. He was getting her right where he wanted her.

"What makes you think I would even consider you now or in the future?"

Or perhaps he was playing her? Oh, it would be so typical.. and cruel. She moved her piece backwards, creating distance. She was trying to win him over.

"I can hear it in your heart."

Checkmate.


	5. Bad Sun

_This chapter is loosely based on lyrics to the song '**Bad Sun**' by **The Bravery**, which I've incorporated throughout. It seemed fitting so I hope it worked. Also just a note... these chapters are in no specific order and perhaps they're a little redundant in spots so my apologies. _

_Thanks for the reviews and everything. Glad you're enjoying it :)_

* * *

_[I don't know what's wrong with us / They just made us this way]_

"Gabriel?"

The lights flash on in one swift movement; dim at first but glaring in only a matter of seconds. The scenery was dull, cold, and barren.

"My name is Sylar."

Bennet grinned happily and stepped close towards the glass window, the only thing separating himself from the monster on the other side.

"No Mr. Gray, your name is Gabriel."

The man inside of the glass cage, for lack of a better term, shot up off of his bed and lunged towards the glass in an apparent rage.

"My name is Sylar and I will kill you, your family, and most importantly, your Claire... do you doubt me?"

Bennet laughed and turned away from the glass, suddenly content to rid his glasses of some annoying little smudges that had appeared there.

"Oh I don't doubt you Mr. Gray, but you'll never get out of here so it looks like I don't have to worry."

The man they called Gabriel was infuriated. He pounded his fists against the glass like a child throwing a tantrum. With every thud that reverberated through the stiff glass shield, a feeling of shame and remorse coursed through him. He stopped because of this; he was unable to consciously think about what he had done.

"I think you're forgetting about my powers, Bennet." He smirked maliciously. Unfortunately, Bennet shot another sly grin back.

"What powers?"

Panic spread across the man's face; he was completely defenseless. What was he to do in a strange place in an empty cell with nothing? Everything he had worked so hard to gain was gone...

"No... no you didn't..."

Bennet laughed again. "Oh but yes, I did. Do you doubt me?"

While the lights on Level 5 grew dim, the fire behind the monster's eyes burned bright.

- - -

- - -

"I found Phil Kynes today, daddy..."

She skipped into her father's office only to find him on the phone with someone important. He nodded and motioned for her to take a seat in front of his desk. Rolling her eyes, she let herself down into one of the hard, wooden chairs that sat facing the expensive oak desk laden with secret files and other paper work.

She had a good field day... and without anyone helping her. She had successfully bagged and tagged an unsuspecting Phil Kynes at his own residence without Bennet or the Company. It didn't get any easier than that. She felt proud that the Company chose her to go after him, which made a small smile appear across her lips. She only hoped her father would be satisfied with her first real assignment. As if he could read her thoughts, the phone clicked back into place on its receiver.

"What were you saying Elle?"

His cold eyes looked across at her wearily; her enthusiasm faded.

"I caught one today... you know, a real bad guy. It was awesome."

His expression was emotionless. "That's.... great, sweetheart. Fortunately I don't think you'll have to go back out in the field anymore. We've just hired some new staff and..."

Her face sank. She had been waiting her whole life to work for her father's company... it was all she knew. She had been trained and educated for this line of work and now he stood before her, crushing her dreams. The more she thought about it the less of a surprise it actually was.

"What's wrong Elle? I didn't think you wanted to do fieldwork anyway."

She looked up at her father and faked a small smirk.

"It's just... no, you're right daddy.. other people will be better at it than me."

Her father stood up from his chair and walked over to place his hands on her shoulders.

"No it's not that, honey.. you're great. It's just that... you belong here with me where I can keep an eye on you. These people can be violent, or even worse, murderers. You wouldn't want something bad happening to you, would you?"

Murderers... well, she already crossed that path but her father didn't know. She had accompanied Noah on a few outings before but refused to tell her father that she played an active part in Sylar's origin story.

Suddenly she realized she lived a perfectly sheltered life with no worries, no problems, and consequently, no real relationships of any kind. She sighed and hugged her father, silently thanking and cursing him at the same time.

* * *

_[There's a hole in you and me / That pulls us together]_

He stared down at his hands as he sat on the cold, hard bed. _These are the same hands_, he thought, _that killed innocent people_. And for what? His own sick personal gains? He hung his head down low. He could not reason himself out of this one. What he had done was unforgivable. His thoughts flew to his mother, a simple, naive women in a dingy Queens apartment... she didn't deserve a son like this. She didn't deserve to know what hid behind the shadows of his eyes.

...was this remorse? He wasn't sure. His whole existence consisted of black and varying shades of gray, no longer were there any bright, white sunny patches. He rubbed his temples as if to coax the bad thoughts out of his mind but to no avail.

- - -

- - -

She walked down the corridors of Level 5 slowly, the familiar spring in her step absent. This place usually made her feel a little better, like her life would someday mean something. _Soon as I get out on the field_, she used to think, _I'll be catching guys like this all the time_. This, sadly, was no longer true. It was useless arguing with her father; he always won.

She barely glanced up at the prisoners in their shiny glass cells... they were all the same. Hell, she was even the same. She was locked up as much as any of them were, stuck inside these concrete walls with her father's protective arm around her shoulders always. A few silver sparks danced in her clenched fists and at that very moment she decided she was going to make a run for it, as childish as it was. She never really grew up she reasoned.. she kept making excuses for herself because it was easier than facing the truth.

One more block, she thought to herself as she rounded a gleaming white corner; she could already see the metal bars on the back door. She knew the intricate details of the Company's security system off by heart so disfiguring it temporarily wouldn't be a problem whatsoever. She felt irrational, angry, but somehow, magnificently alive for the first time in a long time.

As she neared the exit she noticed what looked like shadows on the wall opposite an empty cell. Unless another one was brought in since yesterday...

She remained rooted to the spot, an inexplainable fear gripping her body. Who was in that cell? She had to find out, but yet her body didn't feel like propelling her forward._ Enough of this, _she thought as she lifted a foot tenderly and made her way to the glass window. Careful not to scare whoever was inside (because she wasn't really feeling like herself was more like it), she slowly glanced inside. A man roughly the same age as herself sat on a small bed with his back facing her, his knees drawn in towards his chest. _Dammit, _she whispered under he breath. She had to know who it was... she had an odd feeling about him.

Tap, tap, tap.

She couldn't resist and the vast glass wall reverberated ever so slightly.

Slowly the man's head turned to see where the noise was coming from, an effort that looked painfully difficult for him.

Her eyes widened in shock as she brought her hands up to cover her mouth. He grinned at her reaction as if it was exactly what he was looking for and laughed.

* * *

_[And I don't know where we belong / I think we grew under a bad sun]_

_[I know we're not like everyone / You and me we grew under a bad sun]_

"What are you doing here?"

She was confused and angry, adrenaline flowing through her like blood and a small electric current danced across her palms.

He got up off of his bed and walked over to the thick glass separating them, marveling once again at her ability_._

"Well you know," he said darkly yet casually, "the bad guys always get caught."

She seethed. He had tried to kill her only months before and then professed to loving her. He was every shade of wrong and she hated him for tricking her that he was something better in the beginning.

"I can see that," she said coldly, eyeing his small cell. _Good_, she thought. He didn't deserve much else. "How'd they get you? Did you get sloppy because you fell in love with another victim?"

He laughed quietly and looked straight into her eyes with same almost-tangible darkness that resided within. "Let's just say that I doubted the company... and no Elle, there will only ever be you."

She shuddered. _Does he not know how psycho he sounds?_ she asked herself before being reminded that he was a murderer and that it accounted for everything.

She walked down the length of the glass wall, his eyes focused on her.

"Let's read the report, shall we?" she said, pure venom seeping out of her lips. He was now at her mercy. No more head games. She wanted to know where he was when he got caught. She picked up the wooden clipboard that rested in a plastic holder on the wall outside of his cell. He turned away from her line of view as she glanced down the page.

"Oh boy," she said, a smirk etching itself onto her face, "you were captured at a high school? So you're into that whole cheerleader fantasy, are you?"

He laughed only at the fact that she did not grasp the irony of her statement.

"You could say that," he said, drawing out his words and glancing back at her.

"Well well Mr. Gray, that's quite careless of you isn't it? Better luck next time... oh wait," she added, "there won't be a next time."

Satisfied, she began to make her way over to the exit once again but was interrupted by a desperate thump on the glass behind her. She didn't know why, but the sense of irrationally she had before discovering him was now elevated.

"Don't bother asking," she said saucily, "I'm not into role-playing."

His eyes narrowed and he stared at her coldly. "If you go out there, you're going to end up in here just like me. You're one of them and as soon as you leave these walls you're no longer protected. Don't you understand?"

She laughed. Not a weak chuckle, but a full on laugh. Why in the world would she ever take a psychopath's advice?

"Oh, that's rich," she said through her burst of laughter. "You just want me to stay here to be your playmate, how sweet. Unfortunately for you I have bigger plans for myself that that."

He walked closer to the glass barrier.

"No you don't."

She raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Excuse me? How would you know about what I plan or do not plan on doing once I get out of here?"

A metaphorical spark ignited in his eyes as he raised a palm up to the glass, near her face.

"Because," he said quietly, "I think like you. There is nothing else for us out there besides chaos and exploitation. We're not like everyone."

* * *

_[Every day you bring me pain / And we savor it like rain]_

_[We hold it on our tongues / Just like wine]_

She didn't know why, but he felt different than the last time she encountered him. He seemed more refined and specialized... she couldn't really describe it. Perhaps it was the irrationality, the adrenaline, or the truth behind his words, but she found herself shocking the lock on his cell door open and stepping inside_._

He smiled and looked pleased. He still had more than a little fight left in him and he wanted to have a little fun. What better way to get back at the company than to kill the boss's daughter? What he had said earlier about her being the 'only one' was true, but his desire for more abilities overwhelmed all his other senses. He both hated it and loved it at the same time.

Unfortunately for him, she had similar motives. What better way to show her father she was capable than to off one of the biggest company threats? And he only thought she was foolish and naive... he should have learned his lesson the first time.

"See?" he said warmly, "I'm not so scary. Believe it or not, we're quite similar Elle."

She closed the door quietly behind herself, making sure she heard the reassuring click.

They walked around the inside of the cell in circles as if waiting for the other to strike. She didn't know exactly how she was to go about doing this, but she figured whichever route she took would eventually lead to the same outcome.

He was actually planning to get close enough to choke her since he no longer had his abilities. He admitted it was a weak plan and not very manly, but it would suffice. He didn't have time to worry about his ego.

Elle was getting tired of his analogies and wanted to get it over with as fast as she could before she started to feel some sympathy towards the man.

"Look, I think we both know what the other's trying to accomplish tonight," she said in an irritated tone, "unless you think you're getting some in which case you are entirely wrong."

He looked at her curiously, the gears clicking inside his head rapidly. Swiftly without warning, a bolt of electricity shot out at him and threw him on the floor knocking down an abandoned food tray.

He writhed on the ground and she walked over, her heels clicking rhythmically on the tiled floor.

"Any last words?"

Surprising himself, he reached up and grabbed her shoulders forcefully, causing her to wince in pain.

"I'm not going anywhere so I'll save my breath."

She pushed his hands off with all her might and took a few steps back as he sat on the floor, clutching the spot on his side where he had been loved the feeling of her shocks. It felt as if all the blood in his body had been sucked out and then shot back in at lightning speed. It amazed him and scared him at the same time. The feeling was unlike anything else he had ever felt before.

"I never pegged you for a lightweight," she said, aiming her palm at him, "but I thought that blast would have done a little more damage than that..."

He looked at her, the dark pools intensifying in his eyes._ Oh no, _she thought as she rolled her eyes, _this sicko actually likes being shocked. Great._

"You like that, do you? Wouldn't surprise me seeing as how 'we're not like everyone' and all that jazz."

He stared at her like she was all he ever needed and in an odd, twisted way, it made her feel something other than the pure adrenaline and electricity in her heart.

"Do you know what that feels like? ...you know, when you... shock someone?" He was intrigued and he propped himself up on one elbow. She was in awe of how fast this meeting had turned around.

"Of course I feel it," she said nonchalantly, throwing stray sparks in the air just to keep his attention. His eyes mirrored the fuzzy blue static that she cradled inside her hand.

"Would you... do it again?" his glance shifted towards her face. He looked like an addict looking for his next fix with his glassy eyes and disoriented state.

She immediately realized what an effect her power had on such a horrendous serial killer and assumed it made her just as horrible as him that she loved the attention.

* * *

_[Someday back when we were young / I guess something just went wrong]_

_[The two of us are hung / From the same twisted rope]_

She surprised herself upon discovering that she felt the same sort of high he described while she administered the shocks. Was this new or did she never really pay attention to it before?

"This is what I mean," he said breathlessly as he clutched his chest, the entry point for a lot of bolts that night. "You need to feel it... now do you understand why I do what I do?"

Sadly, she kind of did. It wasn't just an itch you had to scratch, it was more like a validation of life and being alive. She had never felt so alive before than she did at this very moment. Now harnessing the full capability of her powers she was in tune with them on a whole other level. It felt nothing short of amazing.

"I... I never saw it this light before."

She glanced down at her hands, vaguely aware of what they were capable of now, more-so than before. The basic theory of operant conditioning was at play; if her personal payoff was big then the shock would be too. A small, satisfactory grin lit up the lower half of her face but didn't have enough wattage to reach her eyes. He glanced at her hands as well, marveling at their power.

"Is this what you were talking about?" she said quietly, splaying her fingers across her thighs and examining each of them separately. "We're... not like everyone?"

He nodded and stared deeply into her eyes, reaching out for her hands.

"We're so much more than powers and abilities Elle," he said, turning her palms over so they matched his own. "We're capable of more than just the basics."

She returned his gaze and mirrored his cryptic smile.

There was indeed a hole in each of them that pulled them both together.


	6. You Won't Know

_Alternate ending, in my humble opinion, for the end of 2x11 'Powerless'. I always thought Elle should have been more determined to go after him than she was in that episode.  
Hopefully this chapter plays out the same way I envisioned it. :)_

_P.S: Loosely based on some lyrics from '**You Won't Know**' by **Brand New**:_

I fear that I am a slippery slope.  
Now even if I lay my head down at night,  
After a day I got perfectly right,  
She won't know.  
_They can fire everything they've got,  
And when you think I'm sunk,  
I will float on and on.  
I have burned the bush that covered my light.  
Even though I'm scared I won't burn that bright. _  


* * *

Her arm was aching as she made her way up the rusted metal stairs that lead to the loft formerly inhabited by Isaac Mendez but now housing a dangerous serial killer. The rain dripped slowly in sync with her soft footsteps, her heart beating faster than she could possibly count. She had a strong desire to defy the way her father thought of her. She was more than just a Company tool sent around to do their bidding whenever necessary. She was more than just an ability. The discovery of her past was literally quite shocking. The mere thought of what Bennet had said to her earlier caused an involuntary shock to spurt out of her free hand. "Daddy," she said quietly, "I'm gonna make you so proud of me."

She approached the metal door with caution, still in recovery from her previous altercation. What would she see when the door was pushed open? Would she once again witness another instinctual kill? Would he even recognize her? She drew a quick breath and hoped for the best. Every beginning has an end and the monster she helped create was swiftly racing towards his.

"Sylar."

She glowered at him from her stance on the metal entryway. He turned around quickly, gun in hand. His eyes grew wide and then narrowed to slits. The two shared unspoken contempt for one another.

"We meet again."

He went to pull the trigger but she managed to fire first. Missing her target on account of a bad arm, he ran towards the back escape. Furiously she sent another shock whirling towards him, missing yet again. She bit down on her bottom lip hard in concentration before delivering a final blow, this time hitting him square in the back. The shock and the force sent him hurling through a glass window near the exit.

"Dammit," she said loudly, running towards it hoping to find him unconscious on the other side. Too caught up in her so-called mission, she had failed to realized there were others in the loft. One man in his early thirties stood holding a syringe while a wounded woman lay on the floor, a young girl looking over her.

"Did you... kill him?"

The small girl kneeling on the floor asked, tear-stained cheeks dimly lit by several overhead lights. Her heart almost broke for this little girl.

"I'm going to find out right now," she said quickly, continuing towards the window. "Why was he here?"

The man began to speak but was cut off by the little girl. "You have to catch him," she said pleadingly. "he's the boogeyman and he won't stop until he's caught."

Elle briefly recalled the case about one of Sylar's early kills. Surely this was the girl who's parents were innocent victims. The pale, tear-stained cheeks turned up towards her again, increasing her desire to find and take down the man responsible.

"Don't worry," Elle said coldly, "I'll getting him... if it's the last thing I do."

* * *

He ran down through the emergency exit. Down, down, down the stairs until he hit the bottom. The injection was making him lightheaded and he hated the feeling as it made him feel less in control. Surely, he reasoned, the side effects would wear off soon enough and he would be back to normal. The rain was sprinkling on and off sporadically, small drops hitting him like some foreign acid trying to eat away at the bad parts. He needed to hide until he was fully recovered; if anyone found him in this state it would be all too easy to kill him. Steadying himself for a moment with one arm leaning on a brick wall, he attempted to catch his breath all the while looking up at a dusty gray sky. It seemed fitting and he wasn't sure why. Every breath was like poison, stinging his lungs and making him weak.

"I knew I'd find you out here."

She appeared behind him in the alleyway, sparks crackling in her upturned palms. The rain felt like little pinpricks against his skin... ionic little droplets. It was a perfect union of forces intent on bringing him down: the weather and... her.

"So you want a happy ending I take it," he said breathlessly, looking up with a blank expression. "You started it so you may as well finish it, right?" She was a bit confused by his uncaring attitude towards his probable death. Either that or he didn't think she would do it. A small grin spread across her face at the thought. This would be easy.

"Oh come on," she said dryly, "I just want you out of my hair. You're such a nuisance now, running around without your powers thinking you're still invincible. Most people would realize it's time to give up..."

He managed to stand up now, removing his arm from the wall. He wobbled a little before finally stabilizing, drawing a deep breath, apparently in a lot of pain.

"You would do the same. It's all we know."

She raised a hand up towards him in a gun-like fashion, a blue orb resting at the tip of her index finger. _A complete role reversal_, she thought as a small chuckle escaped her pursed lips. What a perfect example of framing.

"Goodbye."

She fired a jet of blue light straight for his heart which was intercepted by a force stronger than hers. Her eyes widened in surprise.

"Funny," he said in an amused tone, "I didn't think I'd have them back this quickly." He marveled at his outstretched hand, an invisible force emitting from it silently pushing the electricity backwards. It was getting harder for her to resist the pressure. She silently hoped his abilities would weaken seeing as how they weren't back to their full potential yet, evident by his pain and instability.

"Good," she said snarkily, "take them for one last test-drive before they're gone forever then."

As if on cue, his forcefield fell straight to the pavement and his arm swung down as if assisted by something other than gravity itself. Now it was his turn to look afraid although he was trying to conceal it. She just wanted to get her job over with and get out of the rain as it was making her spark. His head hung low, breathing heavily as if he had just run for miles, he uttered a plea.

"If you're going to kill me," he said breathlessly, "then can it least be on my terms?"

She placed a hand on her hip, involuntarily shocking herself as she did so. The rain was coming down slightly harder now.

"Oh but I don't think you're in the position to bargain now," she said in a girly voice, flipping her damp hair off of her shoulders. She was in charge now, quite literally, and she was going to do it her way. She would return home, trophy in hand, before long. _Daddy will be so proud_...

"Do you feel no sympathy at all?" his question was rather bold, seeing as how he was a murderer incapable of feeling anything other than power. She raised an eyebrow in mock confusion, sparks now igniting all over her exposed skin in reaction to the moisture. She really ought to get inside...

"Sympathy for you? Why would I? Come on, get real. I'm so over this game you play. Yeah, you're smarter than me, you win. What do you want?"

He looked up at her, his eyes boring into every part of her.

"Give me a head-start. There's only alleyways here. You're going to kill me anyway, so why not let me go out with a little fight? It's only fair."

She didn't believe in fairness. Her childhood wasn't fair and neither was her future. She really wanted to tell him no and kill him right there on the spot but something was telling her not to. She wish she knew what it was...

"This is childish, you know that don't you? Fine, whatever. Have it your way."

She flipped her hand up and turned around. She didn't like saying no to people, she reasoned. And it would be cruel to deny a man of dying with dignity, if he even had any left in that hollow heart of his..

He smirked at her gullibility. He knew he had dropped the gun around here somewhere and it would only take him a moment to find...

She felt her ability becoming weakened by the constant stream of rain that now poured down into the narrow alleyway. She wished it would swallow her up and take her somewhere new...

The gun wasn't here. He silently cursed himself remembering that it had indeed fell up on the metal ramparts. He recalled the metallic noise it made as it skidded across the fire escape. He didn't want to die like this, at the hands of a Company agent. He wanted to die on his own accord... to be the master of his own fate. A sudden surge of emotion washed over him as his personality suddenly shifted into a more human form. _I'm not ready to die_, he thought scarily. It now dawned on him that the people he murdered did not wish to die either but yet their lives were taken by his hands. _How poetic_, he thought, _to be killed the same way I have killed_.

"Well that was pointless," she said walking up to him as his hands violently searched the broken glass scattered across the pavement. "Look where it got you." Small sparks illuminated the ever-darkening alley, blues and whites turning the harsh red into an indistinguishable shade of purple.

He refused to turn around and face his opponent. He was silently praying knowing that it was still too late for it to do any good. It was also very likely that he didn't mean any of it... fear of the unknown had gotten the better part of him.

"So this is how we're gonna do it, huh? Cool. I half expected you to be begging at my feet for mercy but... well, this is alright too."

She lifted her arm and opened a palm and nothing but blue static was produced. _No_, she thought to herself,_ not now_. Sensing something was wrong, he turned around to face her and noticed that she was unable to use her ability. He smirked... a welcome change of events. The rain poured down heavily now, bouncing off the pavement and sliding down the brick walls.

"Funny," he said in a half-shout over the sound of the rain, "we're both powerless. Tell me Elle, what happens now? Do I run away or do you?"

Her fists crackled and sent a sharp pain throughout her body. The war she waged inside herself was comparable to the one she waged outside.

"This isn't over Sylar."

She gritted her teeth and kept her arms tight against her sides, palms facing down into the growing puddles underneath them.

"A second chance," he said in another shout as he stood up. "I like that."

"We don't get second chances," she yelled, her quaint voice barely audible over the rain, "We just get what we deserve."

He took a step closer to her.

"You're saying you got what you deserved? I don't know if I believe that."

The rain was coming down in sheets around them.

"GET OUT!" she bellowed over the rain. Her tears were neatly masked from him. All she wanted was to prove that she was more than a product of the Company by making her father proud, but by doing that she only strengthened her ties to it. It was a never-ending circle.

"Fine," he shouted, taking another step towards her, unafraid because of her diminished ability, "we'll forget this ever happened. Continue living your life the way you want and I'll go on with mine." He felt a change in his body, as if the gears of a clock were moving in the opposite direction. Was he given a new lease on life? It would have to take more than that, wouldn't it? He wondered...

"I'm telling them you're dead! You're as good as anyway." She screamed furiously above the storm.

"That's one more lie you're going to have to live with then," he bellowed before slinking backwards into the shadows.

She stood soaked, alone, and miserable, tears indistinguishable from the rain sliding down her cheeks not unlike the little girl that was upstairs in the loft above believing that the Boogeyman was caught.

She would walk back into that room and tell the little girl with big, blue eyes that everything was going to be alright and that her nightmares would stop. It would be like, she thought, a memory straight from her very own childhood... false promises and empty truths.


	7. Split Me Wide Open

_Sorry this story was delayed! I'm probably going to tie it up within one or two more chapters since I really don't know where else to go with it now.. :( _

_To summarize, this chapter is my take on what I would have liked to have seen happen during the last few episodes instead, starting with this chapter. I'm trying to keep the 'games' theme relevant because I do believe its an important part of their relationship so I guess I'll see how far I can take that. _

_P.S: Sadly, once again, story ideas somewhat inspired by 'Split Me Wide Open' by The Bravery:_

_Split me wide open, and cut me in two  
There's nothing that I could ever hide from you  
Oh you always knew me, you're the only one who knew me  
Is nothing sacred, is nothing saved?  
Your gentle eyes like a razor blade  
They cut me open, you look right through  
I give it all to you_

* * *

Arthur Petrelli stood solemnly, looking out a large picture window with a view of the parking lot below. It was a boring view.... a predictable view. Cars came, cars left, people walked, people stopped. Cement poured over green grass, hardened in the very act of living. Wasn't that what had happened to him? Angela poured the cold cement of death over Arthur only for him to break the surface and defy it. He grinned, turning around to the knock at his door... on second thought, the view wasn't so bad after all.

"...dad?"

Hesitant hands pushed the door open. Round eyes like that of a child looked at him from a safe distance underneath partially furrowed brows. _He so desperately wants approval_, Arthur thought to himself, _from anyone and everyone_. It was evident in his mannerisms, his speech and even the way he practically transformed into whomever he was talking to at any given moment.

"Come in, Gabriel. I've been wanting to see you."

Soft, cautious footsteps proceeded towards the shining desk which housed an old family portrait. He felt uneasy and looked down at the carpet, avoiding his supposed father's gaze.

"You killed Robert Bishop, correct?"

He nodded like a schoolboy being interrogated by a principal. He consciously bit down on his tongue, hating how childish he had become. "Why did you want to know?"

Arthur pulled the black leather chair out from its resting place at the desk and lowered himself into it, eyes focused on the man across from him.

"I have a proposition to make you."

Arthur's fingertips aligned perfectly with each other, perhaps representing the interlocking cogs now whirring in his brain. Gabriel could see them... he could hear them.

"Anything, dad."

Arthur cringed on the inside. He did not wish to be associated with this, this.. monster, even if he knew it was a lie. He was playing his cards well, like he always had in this profession by getting the right players on his side. However, this was taking a toll on him. _He's a full grown man_, Arthur thought silently, _but yet he acts like a child. His upbringing must have been... well, that's evident by his recent past I suppose._

"I thought you might be interested in finishing off the Bishop family. Robert's daughter Elle is locked up here and we have no use for her. Would you...?"

Gabriel looked up at his father with a frightened look, a look that hadn't emerged since he had killed whom he assumed was his real mother a year earlier.

"Elle... Elle Bishop? You want her dead?"

Arthur smirked in his usual fashion, examining the ballpoint pens in a cup on his desk.

"Yes, I do. Once you have her power we won't need her anymore. Truthfully she's been quite dreadful since Bob's death... attacking the Bennets like that. I really don't see a use for her anymore, do you?"

Gabriel looked down at the carpet, a tiny stain catching his attention.

"No, I.... that is if you want me to... I will."

Arthur grinned so that his eyes were reduced to two, black slits.

"For a moment there I thought you were going to say no... do you know the girl?"

Gabriel looked out the window as cars began to leave the now empty parking lot._ Of course I know Elle_, he thought bitterly, _she made me who I am... who I was_. However, with his new found life and sense of right and wrong he didn't want to end another helpless person's life. _But I can't disappoint my father_....

"I don't know her, no. And I'll do it, of course. Whatever you want, dad."

Arthur nodded. "Good, I like to keep business in the family, if you get my drift."

Gabriel nodded and rose slowly from the chair, heading towards the door.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it," he said quietly as he shut the door behind him softly.

Smirking, Arthur looked down at his desk to the closed manilla file folder. Flicking it open his eyes fell on the rap sheet of the infamous Sylar. Of course he knew Elle Bishop, the woman practically made him who he is. _It is funny_, he thought, _that he hesitated upon hearing she was to be killed._ Arthur pondered this thought for a moment before turning his attention back to the parking lot that sat motionless behind him, reminded of Angela and her cold, hard ways.

"Well," he said to the four white walls, "love works in mysterious ways."

* * *

A heavy steel door creaked as it opened inward into a large, dark room. Sylar, for he was no longer Gabriel, not now, took one step into the damp cell and looked around, trying to adjust his eyes to the surroundings. There was no window on the door and everything inside was submerged in complete and utter darkness.

"Hello?"

_Ssssssssiissss._

He heard, not saw, electricity. He could taste it in the swallowed involuntarily, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. _I've never cared about a kill before_, he thought. He chalked his nerves up to wanting to impress his father.

The heavy door clicked behind him sending a small _tick_ throughout the room. Taking a few steps farther in, he saw a small flicker of blue light dancing on a small palm. _Bingo_.

"There you are."

A loud scream erupted from the far end of the cell, faint white light sparking up the walls.

"You murderer! I swear to God, I'm going to kill you. You... you..."

He took five slow, calculated steps towards her, still nowhere close.

"The tables have turned, am I right?"

The electricity now coursed across her skin lighting her up like a plastic patio lamp on a damp summer night, the humid air ionically charged.

"My father!" she screamed, the tears pouring from her eyes, clouded over by rage. She was the thunderstorm.

"Bob? What about him?"

He took a sick satisfaction in toying with her. He recalled that time not too long ago where she had did the same to him when he was imprisoned. However, when he saw the tears zap into vapor on her cheeks the sensation fled him...

"You're sick... HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME?"

She rattled the chains that held her against her will to the brick wall behind her. She sobbed, her chest heaving with an electricity all its own. It was as if the wiring in her heart had shorted out long ago and was now only be supplied by the crude power coursing through her veins.

"How could you do this to me?!" He shot back, raising a hand to pin her to the wall which was intercepted by a strong electric blast.

"I didn't want you... I didn't... do you think I'm that sick?"

He laughed, watching the sore on his hand from the bolt begin to heal itself. "Elle, my dear, we both grew under that bad sun out there... the one that kills all it touches and makes us.... different. Toxic."

She yelled in protest, more tears streaming and then disappearing on her face. "You made me this way! I don't want to be like this!"

"Oh stop," he said walking closer, "you sound pathetic."

She stood up quickly, despite her apparent pain.

"Well who's the one pretending Arthur Petrelli's his father, huh? AT LEAST I KNOW MY FATHER'S DEAD."

With every ounce of strength that remained in her small body, she shocked him with all she had. Every last neuron firing at its synapse was fused into that enormous bolt. The storm was passing. _1-mississippi, 2-mississippi...._

His back arched as the blue poison coursed through him. He yelled in pain and fell backwards onto the stone floor in a heap.

She slumped down against the wall, the remnants of storm trickling down her face slowly, but steadily in silence. _3-mississippi, 4-mississippi..._

Gradually, he forced himself onto his side so that he could see her face. His shirt was singed on the end and his face was ashy, his hair falling down across one eye.

"That's all," she said quietly. She had used up all her energy to deliver a powerful blow, strong enough to kill, she assumed, at least a dozen people if they weren't capable of cellular regeneration.

He rolled onto his back and inhaled sharply, coughing a little as he did so.

"I.... I didn't want to kill him. There was no other way."

He was, quite literally, shocked. She wasn't pathetic, she was upset. Angry. Sad. Things he could barely grasp.

She could hear the remorse in her voice... it was almost as tangible as the ions in the atmosphere and she couldn't do anything but believe him. She nodded in the dark.

"He had something I... something I needed and he wouldn't let me... have it."

She looked down at her restraints and rattled them involuntarily.

"You know what that's like, don't you? Don't you always get your way?" He asked her and she glanced over at him.

"I always get what I want... I can't imagine it any other way."

He grinned despite their conditions and decided to spill the story to her since it would be his only opportunity.

"I think," he said slowly, precisely, "we... were meant to... well you see, the Company..."

"What?" she said dryly, catching his drift. She too had been through the papers in his folder, the papers he had evidently killed her father to see. She let the remaining tears dry on their own as she latched onto the idea of having someone new to... be with...

"The Company," he continued awkwardly, "has profiles of everyone with abilities."

She nodded. "I do know this.. I'm a Company girl, remember?"

He ignored her. "They had a plan to... pair certain individuals with certain powers in order to create new powers... with so many possible routes to be explored it..."

She cut him off. "We're supposed to be together, I know. I get it. Pinehearst wants to create abilities synthetically... they want to expand upon what the Company was doing. They believe that ability-breeding takes too long and is, in the face of new scientific advancements, obsolete. I know... why do you think I approached you when I did?"

He looked away, embarrassed. Of course she already knew and had already bet him to it...

She sighed. "Petrelli wants me dead. Glasses wants me dead because of his Claire. The only one, I think, who wants me alive is you... Sylar."

His gaze shifted steadily towards her. _She called me Sylar_...

Her eyes were alive once again, at least, to him they were. She was bidding her time, playing her cards just as she had learned to do. She had nothing to live for... no Company, no father... her only hope was crazy, just like her. If only she could stick it out a little longer, rebel against the Company once more for old times sake, perhaps Noah himself...

"We don't have to listen to them," she said in her playfully, yet dark, tone. "We can take things into our own hands." She rattled the restraints again.

"Wouldn't you like to pass those powers onto someone else? Someone you could train and control?" Her voice was smooth and persuasive.

"I... I don't know anymore."

She flashed a fake grin and edged herself closer to him.

"Look," she whispered in his ear, "no one has to know I'm still alive. I'll find somewhere to hide until you come and..."

He did not want plans. He did not want futures and what-ifs and probabilities.... he crashed into her.

The only thing he was sure of was the moment. The moment did not lie, it did not hold secret meanings or half-truths. It was real and alive and charged and... full of meaning. It wasn't about approval or family or death or ability or... no, but it was about ability. It was about creating superior beings with superior powers.

She gave in as best she could with wrists chained together.

_Maybe_, he thought silently as his hands found her face, _I'll do something good by doing this one thing... even if it's all I can do_.

The same thought also crossed her mind, although it was laced with additives such as revenge, guilt, sadness and perhaps, dare she think it, love. But no... this was only a plan, a last ditch attempt... she abandoned logic. She never used logic... only feeling. And for some strange reason, this felt... right.

"Just tell me," he said breaking free of her magnetism for a moment, "did you really only approach me after reading our files?"

She froze and looked into his cold, dark eyes. She had lied to him already... but what did it matter? She hadn't killed his father... _Oh, hell_, she thought frantically, deciding that she was done lying for the night.

"No," she said mischievously, "I just knew you were... different."

As he broke the chains and her hands found his neck, he forgot all about his father's approval and her supposed death. He could deal with that later, he would have to.

In the meantime, he came down all around her like pavement on grass, turning everything into stone, preserving the moment forever.


	8. The Art of Deception

_A big lull in this 'series' because honestly, I forgot I had half of this written a long time ago. An abrupt ending but I don't have the heart to keep writing after Elle's death. :/ Hopefully this ties up everything sufficiently although I'm pretty sure all the chapters are 99% self-contained. It's been fun and I hope you've had as much fun reading this as I've had writing it :)_

* * *

"Excuse me ma'am, can I help you?"

She spun around on the heel of her boot, hair twirling underneath the glowing overhead light in the diner. For a moment she looked completely innocent and wholesome underneath the florescent bulbs.

"I'm sorry officer," she said in a forced Southern drawl, "but I was just wondering if I could take a few photos of the crime scene for the Daily Gazette?"

The police officer shot her a stern glance and crossed his arms sharply.

"We're not allowing anyone in there just yet. You're going to have to wait."

She looked down at the floor, a puzzled expression on her face. She hated not getting what she wanted.

"Oh sugar," she said in a syrupy sweet voice, "now I'll have to report on the carjacking in Rickman County instead. It's really too bad because that sort of stuff is just so.... boring, you know?"

The officer rolled his eyes and looked at his watch. He was young and presumably new to the force. She figured she could work her magic on him in order to get what she came for.

"Say," she said in a drawl, "don't I know you from somewhere? You look darn familiar."

The man raised an eyebrow and shrugged. "The police are always on call, ma'am."

She forced a laugh and playfully tapped him on the arm, a small smile appearing on his lips. Her plan was underway.

"No, not that silly," she said in girly voice, quickly glancing at the name underneath his badge. "Marshall... Adam Marshall... I've heard that name before! There's some great stories about you floating around out there... people really like you."

His eyes lit up momentarily. "Really? Why... thanks, I guess. Just doing my job."

She flashed him a wide, toothy smile. "Oh of course, an excellent job Officer." She moved slightly closer so that she was capable of whispering in his ear. "Now wouldn't you be doing a better job by letting me know just some teensy little things about what's happened in there?" She motioned to the area in the restroom cordoned off by caution tape.

The Officer looked around and scratched his neck instinctively. Really? she thought. I pegged him as easy...

"Fine, I get it. But can I just ask you one question, off the record?"

The man looked down at her and noted that she only carried a camera and no writing utensils, not that it would really matter anyway. He had a feeling that if her own curiosity was satisfied she would forget about running the story.

"Off the record? Fine. One question, that's all."

She smiled and let out a short sigh. "Okay," she hummed, pretending to think of one when in reality she already knew what she was going to ask him all along. "Was... was the victim's brain removed?"

The Officer looked startled. "How did you know...?" She smirked. She had her sources.

"You see," she said quietly, moving closer towards him, "I'm not really a journalist. I'm... special."

She was unprofessional and she knew it. The cop squinted his eyes and nodded slowly.

"You're... you're CIA? FBI? Oh, I get it, you can't say, right... right then... what do you need to know, Ms...?"

"Gray," she said crisply, dropping the southern accent momentarily, "El...isa Gray."

She wrung her hands together in anticipation, an invisible shock spreading across the insides of her clenched fists.

--

--

--

"Are you just gonna stare out that window or can I get you something?"

A short, plump woman in her mid-fifties stood before a small table seating a young man, one hand placed on her hip and the other holding a coffee pot like a weapon. Her name tag read 'Bunny.'

He stirred and turned to face her, a dark shadow etched across his features.

"I'll.... uh... I'll just have some coffee. Please."

She shrugged and leaned in to pour the black liquid into a green mug. He watched her intently.

"So you from around here, boy?"

That accent... he hated everything about it.

"No, I'm here for.... actually, I'm visiting relatives. I'm from New York City."

Bunny straightened up and returned her free hand to her hip.

"Oh you don't say! The Big Apple! I bet you see movie stars all the time, you lucky duck. One thing about big cities though," she continued, "is that they make you realize just how small you really are. Don't you find that?"

He clutched the mug instinctively and pulled it towards himself, the darkness engulfing his entire face.

"Yes," he said quietly. "I just had to.... get away for awhile."

She smiled warmly and made her way back over to the kitchen. His eyes followed her and the coffee pot, a feeling of contempt slowly filling his insides up to the brim. But he would wait. He would wait until he saw the familiar blonde hair whip around the corner and head his way. He would wait until she was finally his to destroy. It wouldn't be long now, it couldn't be...

--

--

--

She had learned everything she needed to know from an obliging officer. Boy, a fake I.D. and a lot of charm could really get her places... well, at least in small towns anyway. She was satisfied with her work even though she hadn't caught the killer in question... yet. She had learned more about the way in which Sylar killed his victims, perhaps even more than her father or Bennet knew. She smirked and felt giddy just knowing that she did something right. Bennet and some others were on their way to her location now and would arrive within a few hours. The real test however would be to see if she could actually catch him by herself. He may have slipped through her fingers this time but somehow she sensed that he was still somewhere close. He seemed risky with his last kill so maybe he wanted to be caught... maybe he wanted a chance to start over with the Company's help... The chance was slim to none but she kept it in the back of her mind just in case.

Before heading back to her hotel for the evening she decided to get some food from a local diner across the street. She felt like french onion soup and a milkshake, a combination that most people would raise an eyebrow to. Crossing the street (and looking both ways like a good girl should), she walked up the creaky steps of Kenny's Kitchen and opened the foggy aluminum door.

It was small and warm and that was all that really mattered. Oh, that and it harbored some delicious soup. She tucked her hair behind her ears and made her way over to a small corner booth on the other side of the restaurant. The tattered red cushion underneath her squeaked as she lowered herself onto it.

"And what can I get for you, darlin'?"

The short woman called 'Bunny' shuffled over to her table, a brown plastic serving tray perched on her arm and a dirty washcloth shoved in the front pocket of her apron along with a stubby little pencil and notepad.

"I'll have the french onion soup and a small milkshake, please."

As she predicted, Bunny raised an eyebrow before smiling warmly and walking back over to the kitchen. Elle exhaled and smiled once again at the thought of doing a good job earlier. She had a tendency to let these kinds of things go to her head. Just before she turned to gaze out the window, she noticed Bunny making her way back across the diner towards her with small scrap of napkin in her hands. Now it was her turn to raise an eyebrow in confusion.

"Here love, the young man over there wanted me to give this to you. He's a city boy you know, from New York. He seems smart and well read, yeah?"

Bunny walked away, tossing the thin napkin down on the table. Elle picked it up and examined the precise lines of writing.

_Meet me outside._

She placed the napkin back down on the table and subconsciously began smoothing the crumpled corners. It had to be him, she thought. There was no one else...

Creak.

She glanced across the diner to see the man drenched in shadows getting up from his booth and heading towards the door. Her heart rate increased as he turned and looked her way... it had to be him. Making sure the waitress was in the kitchen busying herself with something, Elle got up and proceeded towards the door herself. By now it was dark and even colder outside, the crisp smell of the outdoors pouring itself into her lungs. The roads around her were deserted and she suddenly felt a little too exposed.

"I've been waiting."

She spun around to see him standing there with his hands in his pockets, his breath visible in the cold.

"I've gathered that, and so have I by the way."

He smirked and took a step closer.

"Yeah, by checking out what I did behind the yellow tape? Come on, that's police stuff. I thought you were better than that."

She snarled and was about to zap him when she remembered that she was standing next to a metal oil barrel.

"I followed you here all the way from Odessa."

He laughed out loud and looked down at his feet.

"That's only a six hour drive... not really impressive knowing what you're capable of."

She groaned and rolled her eyes. Did he really want to play this game with her now?

"Oh, okay, I get it. You want to critique me on my stalking skills, right? Have at it. I've got you right where I want you anyway."

Feeling a little too confident, she underestimated him and all his abilities and before she knew it, she was flung backwards into a concrete wall, her arms pinned down at her sides. _Dammit_, she thought silently to herself.

"Well actually," he said with snark, "I think I have you right where I want you."

"I know how you do it Gabriel," she said as he walked over to her, arm outstretched in a conscious effort to keep her in her place. "I know how you kill them."

He grinned and let out a low laugh. "Congratulations. It's taken you long enough, don't you think?" The cold, rough bricks scratched against her exposed wrists.

"What I don't understand," she says cooly despite the circumstances, "is why you have to make such a mess. It's gross."

He momentarily lost his signature smirk. He took pride in his methods but now he wondered if there was a better way to go about it.

"Oh, you have a point. Should I try a different approach?" he took a few calculated steps closer. "Wanna be my first subject?"

She wrinkled her nose in disgust and looked away as best she could. "I couldn't think of anything I'd love more."

Without warning, he gave up his hold on her and let her fall a few feet to the ground below. She wrung her scraped wrists and glared at him from behind the shadows. "Go ahead Dracula, suck my blood or whatever it is you do after you play kickball with my brain. Bennet's on his way and this time you won't be getting off the hook so easily."

Her mock confidence did anything but sell him on these points.

"I think you've got your facts wrong," he said angrily. "I'm not...an animal." He sounded as if he really had to convince himself of the last part.

"Could've fooled me. Anyway, if we're done here I'm gonna go back inside and finish my soup so..."

"I said I was going to try a new method." Without using a supernatural force to turn her around, she looked back to face him. Perhaps it was the tone of his voice but she couldn't not look back.

"So...?"

"Show me how you do it."

"How I do what? Create mini electrical storms in the palm of my hand? Um, thanks but no thanks."

He was getting a little more than pissed off at this point. "Do you really want to die in an alley outside of a local diner? 'Cause I can make that happen."

She raised a finger to her chin in mock contemplation. "Gee, I never really thought about it. Wait, I got it. How about a movie theatre? I think that's more cliche. Or wait, no... how about a beach? That'd be lovely. The sand, the sun... the dying..."

Before he could utter another smart retort, the familiar Primatech van pulled up in the parking lot. She flashed him a knowing smile before crossing her arms against her chest.

"Get down on the ground, Gray."

Bennet's voice was stern and harsh. He had every right to hate this man as much as he did. Sylar, however, did not move. In fact, he flashed Elle a signature smirk which was a little more than off-putting.

"This isn't the end, Bishop."

She snorted and raised an eyebrow. "Pretty sure it is. Nice talking to you again, see ya later."

Before Bennet and the others had a chance to apprehend him he was gone. Disappeared into the thin air that enveloped them all.

"Shit," said a rather young man holding a handgun, "did he get to Nakamura too?"

"Not that I know of," Bennet snarled. "But for all we know there could be others out there with a similar ability. Just in case, I want you two to search the grounds. There's a slim chance he could still be nearby."

Elle stood frozen on the spot still staring at the place where moments before he had stood before her, about to take her life.

"Elle, you okay? Did he hurt you?"

"No, I'm alright Bennet. Nothing some good soup won't fix up I'm sure."

He nodded and ushered her and the Haitian inside. There was still work to be done before they could leave, first and foremost was the job of making the people inside the diner 'forget'.

As she sat down at her booth toying with the lukewarm broth in front of her she couldn't shake what he had said. Perhaps he meant it in a 'Oh I'll more than likely see you again because I'm crazy and I'll be on the loose" way. But what if he didn't? What if by some chance he did manage to carry out his previously stated intentions?

"Whatever," she said out loud, taking a big gulp of her quickly melting milkshake. She didn't let it bother her a few minutes ago and she certainly wouldn't let it bother her now.

Whatever is going to happen will happen all in good time.

_FIN~_


End file.
